Smart, Sexy and Secretive (22 page)

“
Thought you’d never ask,”
he says with a laugh. I help him to his feet and put his crutches
under him, and he hobbles slowly toward the bedroom.

“
Are you sure you don’t need
pain medication?” I ask. He looks tired around his eyes.

He shakes his head, leans his crutches
against the bed, and shoves his gym shorts and his boxers down to
his knees. I walk over and pull off his shoe, then roll his sock
down. It takes a minute to get his shorts over his cast, but I do
it. He’s rock hard, and his manhood bobs in my face.

“
You know, when you woke up,
you were pretty drugged up, and you mentioned to Sam that I don’t
spend enough time down here.” I take him in my hand and look up at
him.

“
I did?” he chokes out. He
pushes into my grip. “I didn’t mean to. I never talk about stuff
that personal with them.” He tips my chin up. “You believe me,
don’t you?”

I nod. My body is ready for him. It has
been too long since he’s been inside me, and I need him. This time
is not like the other times we’ve been together. It’s soft and slow
and oh-so-sweet. But we find completion in one another, and we do
it quickly.

He pulls out of me slowly, shivering as
he does so. “I’m afraid you’re a mess,” he tells me. He reaches for
his crutches to pull himself up. “Let me get you a
towel.”

I jump up and scramble across the bed,
snatching his crutches from his hand. He growls and reaches for
them. I put them across the room so he can’t get up. “Stay right
there,” I say, pointing my finger at him.

He laughs and pulls his shirt over his
head. He never got fully undressed. “Can we take a nap?” he
asks.

I go to the bathroom and clean myself
up and then pad back into the room with a cloth wet with warm
water. I pass it to him, and he cleans himself off and lies back on
the bed, one arm behind his head so he can look at me. I’m bare-ass
naked, and I don’t care.

“
I was going crazy waiting
for them to leave,” he admits. He scrubs his hands into his eyes.
He looks like he’s ready to drop.

“
I was, too.” I go get him a
pain pill and some water, and I watch while he takes it. “Do you
want something to eat?” I ask.

He shakes his head, yawning. “Want to
take a nap with me?” He looks at me, and his love for me shines
back in my face. I never thought I would ever feel this
happy.

I climb into the bed and roll into his
chest, into that space that’s made just for me. We both have a ton
of schoolwork to catch up on, but our instructors were
accommodating when I told them what happened, particularly in
Logan’s situation. I’ve been taping my lectures, which I would do
anyway, and I have been listening to them as I have time. He’s much
further behind than I am. “You have homework to do when you wake
up,” I warn. I snuggle into him.

“
I plan to do a lot of
things when I wake up,” he says, yawning again. He
chuckles.

“
Such as?” I ask.

“
You.” He laughs and
squeezes me tightly.

He lifts my arm and kisses the tattoo
on my inner wrist. I look down at the tat that started it all. He
set me free when he unlocked my world. He’s the peace in my soul.
He’s the one who opened my shackles, and I’ll love him
forever.

“
Promises, promises,” I
mutter. I close my eyes and fall asleep to the beat of his
heart.

Smart, Sexy and
Secretive

By Tammy
Falkner

Sexy version

Emily

My dad doesn’t want me to go back to
New York. He’s wholeheartedly opposed to it. But New York is where
my heart is. It’s where Logan is. And we’re in a plane on our way
there right now.

I met Logan in the fall. He took care
of me when I needed a place to stay, and I took care of him when
his brother got sick with cancer. Matt needed an expensive medical
treatment, and the only way to get the money was for me to suck it
up and take one for the team. So, I did. I went back to California,
leaving the only man I’ve ever loved in New York, and returned to
my estranged family—the one I’d run away from. Matt went into
treatment, paid for by my father, and Logan went on with his
life.

I have wanted to contact him
so many times. But talking is difficult between us. Logan is deaf,
and he communicates by writing. I have dyslexia, and reading is
hard for me. So letters and phone calls are not possible for us.
The Reed family is poor, and they don’t even have a computer. I
considered buying them one and shipping it to them, so Logan and I
could talk using sign language on Skype, but they are both
poor
and proud
,
which is a killer combination.

It’s been almost three months since I
last saw Logan. It has been just as long since I’ve talked to him.
I want to look into his eyes. I need to see him. Soon.

The pilot announces that we’ll be
arriving in New York in twenty minutes over the intercom. Mom and
Dad look over at me. Mom is smiling; Dad is not. Dad’s bodyguard
sets his newspaper to the side and buckles his seat belt. My dad
has money. Lots and lots of money. My mom spends money. Lots and
lots of money. I am so glad my mom married my dad because no other
man on the face of the earth could ever afford her.

Dad owns Madison Avenue. Not the
street—the upscale clothing and accessory line. It’s a popular line
of really expensive items that started in California and has now
spread nationwide. My parents have more money than God.

“
Are you excited, Emily?” my
mother asks as the wheels touch down. I take a deep breath. I can
already breathe easier just knowing I’m in the same city as
him.

I look directly into her eyes since she
knows how much I love Logan, and she’s actually in favor of us
being together. “More than you know.”

“
I don’t know why you feel
the need to go to college, Emily,” my father barks. “You could have
just gotten married and lived a life of ease and
privilege.”

Last year, my dad tried to marry me off
to the son of one of his business partners. That’s why I left
California with nothing and took a bus all the way to New York. I
didn’t take a dime of my father’s money, and I supported myself by
busking in the subways with my guitar for change. My dad doesn’t
know everything about my life away from him. Like how I lived in
shelters when money was tight. And how I went for days without food
sometimes. He chooses to think I lived an upscale life while I was
away. But I didn’t. It was hard. I wouldn’t trade the experience
for anything, though. Because it’s what brought me to
Logan.

God, I want to see him so badly. I want
my parents to go away, too, but they want to see me settled into my
new apartment. It’s around the corner from the college I’ll be
attending, Julliard. I’ve always wanted to study music, and now I
can. That was my mother’s doing.

My mother smacks my father on the arm.
It’s a breezy wave, but it gets his attention. “We’ve already
discussed this, darling. She doesn’t want to get married. Least of
all to the young Mr. Fields.”

I snort. I wouldn’t marry that ass if
he were the last man on earth.

“
Fields is a fine young
man,” my father says. What’s really bad is that he believes it,
even though Trip is really just an opportunistic asshole who wants
to climb the financial ladder, and he wants to use me as the top
rung. He’ll never get over
this
rung, I can say that much.

“
Mmm hmm,” I hum
noncommittally.

“
Fields is an ass, darling,”
my mother says. She gets her purse, and we disembark the plane. The
limo is waiting for us outside, and we all slide in while someone I
will never see unloads the luggage.

“
He blows his nose
constantly, Dad,” I say. “And he doesn’t shower after he plays
basketball.” And he called me stupid in front of all his friends.
But we don’t talk about that part.

My dad’s lips twitch. “That boy has a
lot of potential. Great vision. He would make a fine
husband.”

What he means is that we could combine
the two families like a business deal, increasing the net worth of
both. I have no interest in being richer. In fact, the happiest
time in my life was when I lived with Logan and his brothers. He
has four of them—two older and two younger. They live alone since
their mom died and their dad left. They don’t have much, but they
love one another like crazy.

My parents love me, but it’s not the
same thing. Not by a long shot.

“
You should partner with
him, Dad. Because I never will,” I grouse. I can’t count the number
of times in the past few months I have had this
conversation.

My dad heaves a sigh. He is a master at
business, but he knows very little about relationships.

“
Do you plan to see that boy
while you’re here, Emily?” my dad asks.

Only every chance I get, if he’ll have
me. “I doubt he’ll want to see me. I left him without a single word
and haven’t talked to him since.” He’s probably angry at me. So
angry that he has moved on. My heart lurches at the very thought of
it.

I knew that I was giving Logan up when
my dad paid for his brother’s treatment, but I didn’t think it
would be permanent. I look down at the tattoo on my inner forearm.
My father hates it; I love it. It’s a key with Logan’s name printed
down the shaft. Logan unlocked my world. He accepted and loved me
exactly as I am, or at least how he thought I was. I just hope he
still does.

It’s taking forever to get to my
apartment. I have to listen to my dad talk about how fit Trip would
be as a husband the whole ride. My mom makes a face at me. She
makes me laugh. We have a new understanding since I spilled my guts
to her after coming home. I think she gets it, and she’s on my
side. But that doesn’t make things any better with my
father.

“
If that boy is smart, he’ll
stay far, far away from you,” my father nearly snarls. He’s
adamantly opposed to me being with someone so poor.

Logan is rich in all the ways I wish I
were. He’s rich in family, steeped in love and compassion, and he
loves what he does for a living. Logan’s an amazing artist, and he
works at his family’s tattoo parlor, putting his fabulous art on
people’s skin. The last time I talked to him, he wanted to go back
to college. He got a scholarship, but he had to get a deferment
when Matt got sick. They took out a lot of loans to pay for Matt’s
first treatment, and when Matt couldn’t work anymore, Logan quit
school and took over for him.

“
If that boy has any sense
at all,” Mom says, “he’s just waiting for you to come back to New
York.”

I hope that’s the case. But so much can
happen in three months. Women throw themselves at Logan every day.
It’s asking an awful lot for him to wait for me for three full
months while I find my way back to him.

Mom pats Dad on the knee. “How is his
brother doing, darling? I know you get reports.”

I scoot to the edge of the
seat.
Please tell me he’s okay.
Please.
I have asked him this more times
that I can count, and he refuses to answer me, reminding me of the
bargain we made.

“
Fine.”

That’s all he says. Just that one word.
I flop against the seat back.

“
Elaborate, please,” my mom
says, smiling at my dad.

“
The treatment is working,
but he’s not out of the woods. He has to have scans every month,
and then they’ll start spreading them out as time goes
on.”

My heart clenches in my chest. Matt is
better. My sacrifice wasn’t for nothing. Tears start to burn my
eyes, and Mom reaches over to squeeze my knee. “That’s good,
darling,” she says to Dad. “I’m so glad you were able to help
him.”

“
I did it so she would come
back home,” he says. He glares at me. “Our deal was that she would
come home, not go to Julliard.”

Mom pats his knee again. “She did come
home, darling. And now she’s going to Julliard.”

“
I just hope he stays away
from her,” Dad grumbles, more to himself than to either me or Mom.
We all know who
he
is. And
he
had better not stay away from me. Not for a day. Not for an
hour. Not for a minute.

We arrive at my apartment, and my dad
scowls. “This is the best you could find?” He glowers at my
mother.

“
It’s perfect,” I say. It’s
pretty, with a small garden out front. I’m on the tenth floor, and
that’s all right with me. There’s a doorman, an older gentleman,
and he smiles at me, bowing to all of us as we walk into the
building.

“
Ah, Mr. Madison,” he says.
He knows who my dad is. He doesn’t hold out a hand, though he does
take mine when I extend it. I am not better than this man, and I
want him to know it. “Miss Madison,” he says, grinning at me.
“Henry is my name.”

“
Mr. Henry,” I say,
squeezing his hand in my grip.

“
Just Henry will do.” He
looks over at my father’s scornful face.